


The Yell

by MargoGreen



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:55:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25670203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MargoGreen/pseuds/MargoGreen
Summary: George catches Arthurs attention.Not slash
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

Three things about the yell caught Arthur’s attention. The first obviously being that it was just that, a yell. The second thing was that it was most definitely George’s yell and he had never heard the man speak any louder than a low-pitched murmur. The third and most concerning thing was that the yell held the form of his name. Not sire, or your highness, or any of the other court appointed niceties that the painfully proper servant always drawled out. But his name, Arthur. Raw and filled to the brim with something he could only equate to terror. These three observations had him shooting up from his desk, upending his chair in the process. His scrabbling sent papers, pen and inkwell sprawling across the desk and subsequently the floor as he dashed around it, beelining for the doors. He flung them open and grabbed the frame, using it to keep his feet under him as he swung his weight into the turn, boots sliding across the stone as he went. Once he had gained enough traction he continued his sprint towards the uncharacteristically distressed servant.


	2. Chapter 2

The man was still sporadically bellowing the kings name which served as a sort of homing beacon leading Arthur to the scene. He skidded around the last corner and slid to a stop, cartwheeling his arms slightly to steady the aftereffects of his speed. Many scenarios had run through his head when the first thundering syllables reached his ears, perhaps Morgana was attacking again. Maybe some other enemy had come out of the woodwork and had already infiltrated the castle. About halfway to his destination the thoughts had spiraled to more personal attacks. He pictured Gwen with a knife fit snugly under her chin while some hired hand made demands. He imagined one of his knights down, having been caught by surprise, leaking blood onto the stone. What he found when he finally reached George was somehow worse than anything his mind had dared to conjure during his mad dash through the halls.

He saw George’s face first, pale and horror stricken. His eyes were impossibly wide, boomeranging between the king and the hand that Arthur was just now noticing. He still couldn’t tell who the hand was attached to, the body was stuffed into an alcove effectively blocking it from all views except head on. George took a few stumbling steps backwards which allowed Arthur the space to step forward and see the battered form of his manservant. Air left his lungs in a brutal whoosh as his brain finally processed the sight before him. Someone or far more likely, multiple someones, had taken fists and boots to his thin frame. Arthur fell, uncaring of the harsh crack when his thinly covered knees collided with the cool stone. He shuffled forward, his hands fluttering over Merlin’s body. After a fair bit of waffling he decided to gently pull the boys upper body into his lap. He was warm and Arthur was overjoyed to see his chest rise and fall, no matter how shaky the motion was. For his own peace of mind he pushed his fingers gently into the skin at Merlin’s neck, the pulse there was slow and thready, not a good sign but the boy was alive which was far more than Arthur had thought upon first seeing him. 

Ages seemed to have passed since he caught sight of George’s pallid face in the hallway but it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes seeing as the guards were currently dashing towards him in a jumble of chainmail and hastily drawn swords. Most of the knights who had come to their aid were men that Arthur knew only vaguely but Leon and Percival were among the group and both quickly lost their color upon seeing Merlin cradled in the king’s arms. Leon, ever the pragmatist, was the first to gather his wits and send two of the men careening towards the physician’s chambers. Arthur made to get up, intending on carrying the beaten form to Gaius, but Leon’s hand on his shoulder halted his movement. “We shouldn’t move him sire, he may have internal injuries that movment would only make worse.” Arthur heard Gaius’s chiding voice in his mind, reminding him of the dangers that came along with neck and spinal injuries. Based on Merlin’s appearance, those were both distinct possibilities. Arthur began to panic slightly as he remembered pulling the boy into his lap, “I moved him Leon, I moved him… oh gods what if I hurt him” Leon could tell the king was dissolving and quickly sent the remaining guards to search for the culprits. Leon’s orders seemed to ground Arthur and his panic began to yield to anger. Somebody had broken into the castle and beat his friend to a pulp, he turned his attention to his head knight, “We need to sound the warning bell…” Leon cut him off with a squeeze to his shoulder as he knelt down next to the king. 

Without saying a word he extended his arm and pointed to Merlin’s wrist. The papery skin had been indented with what was clearly a dragon. He was confused at first until he remembered issuing the new embossed vambraces. Since accepting magic into the kingdom, the economy had been flourishing. Arthur had found his budget for ceremonies and other such frivolities greatly inflated. As such he had decided to add a few decorative pieces to the ceremonial armor of his knights. Golden dragons slightly raised from the metal itself had been on that list. The feast held earlier that night had been just such an occasion for his men to sport their new gear. Merlin had not been attacked by an outsider, someone in the castle had done this. Arthur’s own men had decorated his body with bruises, leaving their crest, Arthur’s crest, neatly branded into the boy’s pale skin. The anger of before melted seamlessly into a boiling rage that shook his body, a seismic reaction to the fury currently singeing it’s way through his veins. He struggled to force the wrath into a box, it would do nothing to help Merlin in this moment and that had to be his priority, ensuring that his manservant lived to see another day. 

Gaius shuffled around the corner, flanked by Lancelot and the guards that Leon had sent off. Arthur spotted the brief tear in his mask of professionalism, but it was sewn shut by the time the old man reached the huddled group. Leon stood up and stepped back to convene with Lancelot while Gaius took his place beside Arthur. His eyes skillfully scanned his ward before he instructed Arthur to lay Merlin down flat. Arthur complied somewhat reluctantly, the warmth of his body felt like the only thing keeping him sane at the moment and to lose it could spell trouble. The hushed whispering of his knights filtered into his hearing, pulling his attention from Gaius who was now pulling at Merlin’s clothing. Arthur rose unsteadily to his feet. He brought his hand up to run it through his hair but caught the dash of red across his palm. He felt bile rise in his throat as he stared at his trembling hands. Merlin’s blood was smeared across the front and back of both, it was dry and crusting underneath his ring and between his fingers. Leon noticed the kings horror stricken stare and moved forwards to comfort him but Merlin emitted a faint whimper and Arthur’s anger crested. He spun on his heels and stalked down the corridor, the men who had laid his friend so low would pay with nothing short of their lives.


End file.
